


Just You, Just Me

by BeepSpace



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Noir, Detective Noir, F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepSpace/pseuds/BeepSpace
Summary: “When I lay these questions before God I get no answer…” – C. S. LewisIn a world of half drank liquor bottles and the stories that say they didn’t have a drop, answers are few and far between. And the moment you realize that choices made are based off of assumption and motive, the easier life in this city gets. The city that God can’t see, and the devil won’t bother; but, I won’t bother you with unimportant details. No one knows the name of this city…not any more.No, this begins with a girl caught in a windstorm called lust, staring up at a blue eyed girl who headlined “The Silver Smoke”, a lesser bar with lesser morals. Then again, lesser morals are a custom here.





	1. The Silver Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is my first story I’ve made in years, and just to set this up from the beginning, I don’t write in a typical format. Honestly, it reads like a mix between plays and novels and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also, the song sung in the beginning is based off of the cover of Stardust by Mel Torme, in case you wanted to listen to get a feel for the mood. Good luck, and if this gets enough intrigue, I'll push on!

**“The Silver Smoke”, a popular smoking lounge, is silent in wait, all in a gaze at the singer for the night who had just made her way to the middle of the stage. As she **prepares, the packed lounge settles, glasses being filled and emptied all at once, as the neon red lining the seats and stage become the only glow to illuminate the **audience. A spotlight clicks on, and the woman begins her song. “Stardust” originally by Nat King Cole, but the only instrumental being a slow and somber piano, as if **listening to her sing about someone near to her, and it no longer being a show.********

************** **

_And now the purple dusk of twilight time_  
_Steals across the meadows of my heart_  
_High up in the sky the little stars climb_  
_Reminding me that we are_

_Far apart_

“She really is somethin’, ain’t she?” a phantom man’s voice mutely asked behind a woman covered in a trench coat, a broad hat laying off to the edge of the circular table, displaying her short cut brunette hair. She tilted her head back to glance the man up and down, turning back and muttering her response.  
“Sure is.”

_Haunts my reverie_  
_And I am once again with you_  
_When our love was new_

“So…, you a fan of her? That Veronica broad?”  
The woman stayed silent. He continued anyways, hoping to crack this woman’s shell. “I just saw her the other night, and I haven’t been able to sleep right since!”  
Silence, again.  
“Makes you want to be able to settle down with a woman like that…”  
A sharp glance backwards with her hand sliding to her hip helped make the man back off from his own accord, muttering something about his luck tonight.  
But he was right, the woman thought to herself.  
“Veronica Serket…”

_But that was long ago_  
_And now my consolation, is in the stardust of a song_

In her cobalt sequined dress, and deep black hair that spilled over her face and to the middle of her spine, she had the look of a girl who’d be everything. She’d been head lining this joint ever since the day she walked in, her voice having the tone of Ella Fitzgerald, but the range of a tenor. Unique, to say the least, and that’s what the head of the lounge thought as well. People come from all over to stop by on these late Friday nights, desperate to get a glimpse at this mythical woman who stayed basked in light, and more ironically, mystery. No one knew where she came from, no one knew where she went. Well, almost no one.  
Not to mention, she was a woman our ‘sweetheart in the trench coat’, Theresa Pyre, had taken interest in. 

_The nightingale hums his fairy tale_  
_Of paradise, where roses bloom_

Of course, this wasn’t a vain interest, like the guy behind her, oh no. ‘fraid this one has a bit more consequence than either would like.

_Though I dream in vain_  
_In my heart it will remain_  
_My stardust melody_  
_The memory of loves_

“…refrain” Veronica breathily sung into the mic, her hair gently flowing out as if suspended in front of her.  
The piano continued for a bit more, resolving to a grand applause from the crowd in front of her. Theresa clapped slowly, looking directly up at her. Veronica gave a small smile to all around, it soon dropping after she made eye contact with Theresa. She put up the smile again, going back to the microphone.  


“You’ll make me faint right off the stage if you keep that up” Veronica said, whistles and cheers following, her hold over the audience appearing like a fist around the lounge.  


“I’d hate to take up all your time…” reassuring comments flew up at her like roses, telling her to stay up on stage. She smiled and waved them off, continuing “…so, we’re going to have some other starlets come up and let you fall in love all over again. But who knows? Maybe you’ll see me again…if you got the time.”  
Veronica quickly made her way off the stage, Theresa picking up her hat and following her direction, headed for the door that led into the dressing rooms. Her money for the empty drink that remained on the table sat there in the glow as the lights came back up, the sound of the door opening and closing being the last remanence of the organized chaos that filled “The Silver Smoke”.


	2. One For My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The back of a smoking lounge was like looking underneath a treasure chest in a dusty old cave. All the things underneath, dead or dying, and finding whatever laid there would most likely make the treasure itself sour, replacing the glitter and ornate-qualities with one glance.
> 
> But Theresa had seen this place before, a few more times than she wanted to admit, letting her blaze past the air of tension surrounding the abused workers and limelight singers. She followed the shape of Veronica through hallway after hallway, eventually reaching a dead end. Though, at the end of this dead end, was a changing room. Property of Ms. Serket.
> 
> Veronica never was good at hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey lmao, 2 kudos is enough for me, so here's the second chapter! Also, every chapter title is the song I listened to to make it, so in case you were interested, it's there!!

Theresa pounded on the door twice with no real care about the girl on the other side, calling out “Veronica! If you’re in there, ya’ better open up!” The staff behind her gathered at the far end of the hallway, muttering things to each other as Theresa waited for an answer.

On the other side of the door was Veronica, looking from side to side to try and find an escape plan, or a fight plan. She saw the point of something in her cosmetic drawer, causing her to quickly run to her make-up table, digging around for something as she heard through the door, “I’m gonna give you to the count of 3!”  
There was a pause where neither party said something, before Theresa began counting.

“1…2…”

The door swung open as Theresa began to brace her shoulder, Veronica leaning on the door as if the woman had only tapped on the door, her left side blocking her hand that was holding the scissors. “Reese! I hadn’t pegged ya for the smoking lounge type. ‘Least, not anymore. How’ve you been?”

  
Theresa pushed in and shut the door, locking it.

  
“Foreplay’s overrated, anyways” Veronica said to herself, turning and leaving her hand pressed between her back and the wall.

  
“I thought I was pretty clear about not wantin’ you to contact me anymore. Love notes, ‘how’ve-you-been’s’, and anything in-between count as contact, Serket! Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get where I am?” Theresa was seething, her eyes shooting daggers at Veronica’s collected nature.

  
Veronica ignored her question, standing her ground. “That wasn’t a ‘love note’, live-wire, it was an opportunity! We’ve got something big coming up, so I figured I’d offer you a job, end a’ story. “

  
“I’ve been doing just fine, I don’t need any offers.”

  
Veronica laughed, tracing her free hand along the back of a chair near her “Oh yeah, in a town like this? I’m sure it’s a real rich turnout! Or, is this visit you proving yourself to all your fancy big timers over there on Moral Lane, to really sell it to ‘em?” She said the last sentence with bitterness dripping off every word, her other hand tightening around the scissors.

  
They both stayed looking at each other, both seemingly caught in the possibility of the future. Theresa broke the stasis with a chuckle, pulling a chair over, and sitting down, motioning to the other chair in the room for her to sit in.

  
“I’m not here to prove anythin’. I’m here to tell you, for the last time, that I’m out. My job is to hunt you down when you and the Moll’s mess up, not make sure it goes off without a hitch.”

  
Veronica sat down, with Theresa sticking her hand out. Veronica made a confused face, but Theresa motioned with her hand again, suggesting her to hand something over. Veronica, rolled her eyes, placing the scissors on her hand.

  
“I’m serious.” Theresa said, moving forward with the scissors dangling off her loose grip.

“Come on, don’t you think you owe me for what you got right now?”'  
“Owe you?” She let out a hardy laugh, her arms crossing. “You think you’ve been free this long because I’ve been selling you out to everyone?”  
“And I’m grateful for that, Reese, bu-”  
“Yanno, if anything, you should owe me. I never ask for money, or dope, or power! All I ever ask is for you to back off and let me breathe some different air.”

  
They both sat in silence at the request, Veronica’s mind raced with things to say but not being able to pick one at first. Theresa sighed, leaning back in the chair.

  
“This isn’t about you, or me, or anythin’ in between. This is about a new life I’m carving out for myself, and that part of my life, the ‘you’ part of my life, can’t be a part of it.”

  
Veronica scoffed, now leaning back in her own chair.  
“So, ‘cause you busted in, yelled at me and said ‘stop’, you think everything you were’s gonna vanish? Just like that?” Theresa turned her head away, looking towards the floor. Veronica quickly stood up, pulling her face over to look her in the eyes, inches from each other.  
“You’ve got a disease, sweetheart, and the only way you’re gonna be able to get rid of it is with a bullet right” Veronica’s ringer pressed right between Theresa’s eyes “…there. Why not embrace it?”

  
Ignoring the question, she glared into Veronica’s eyes with determination, pushing her hand away.  
“I better not hear from you again.”

  
Veronica smirked and shook her head, falling back into her chair. The buzz of the lights around them filled the threat with that much more presence.  
“Yeah, sure, if it helps ya’ sleep.”

  
Theresa nodded, standing up and throwing the scissors onto Veronica’s vanity. She slid the chair back to it’s original place, adjusting her trench coat. The door opened with a loud creak, a group of people who were listening through the door scattered as Theresa appeared on the other side. Before she left, she leaned on the doorway, pausing for a second or two.

  
“You could make it big, you know. If you gave up all this shade around you, I really think you could.”  
Veronica refused to look at her, crossing her legs in a fit.  
“Stay outta trouble, Roni.” Theresa tipped her hat as she closed the door, with the starlet scoffing and looking down in an air of defeat. She dug through her vanity to find herself a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long, shaky drag, before letting all of Theresa’s words hit her.

  
“…shit.”


	3. Differently, Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faint glow of a cigarette is the only thing that shines on our star’s face, as she makes her way out of ‘The Silver Smoke’, fully covered in her outfit, save for her black, short-heeled shoes that make a slight clicking sound with each step forward she makes. The street lights try to steal a glance at her features, but her wide brimmed hat makes her eyes only that much harder to pull out of the night that refused to settle. 
> 
> She walked with a purpose, but seemed to never know what it was until she arrived there. It was like her gut knew before her head could even acknowledge that she wanted to go somewhere. And this gut feeling led her right back to her apartment, Apartment 3C, in a building owned by one Tom Wanley. Never really met the guy, but the rent was cheap, so she wasn’t going to start complaining. Her hands went to search for her keys, being interrupted by a voice behind her.

“Late night, Reese?”

     Theresa turned around to see her neighbor, and close acquaintance, Emily Nevrona. She was wearing a dress that ended around her knee, piercing red with a boarder of rhinestones around the neck. She had her hair up in a way that almost seemed painful, but Lord knows it looked incredible.

     “Yeah, I had to check out something for work.” Theresa’s eyes scanned Emily up and down, smirking. “But I’d imagine that’s not your problem.”

     Emily let out a chuckle, leaning back onto her door, key swinging around her slim finger.

     “A girl’s gotta have some fun sometime, right?”

     “That’s all you ever have, Em.”

     She hit Theresa with her hand playfully.

     “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with taking a week or two of pleasure! You should learn something from me, your back’s probably wound up like a clock!”

     “You can teach me another day.” With a click, Theresa fit the key into the lock, turning it and pushing the door open. She turned when she was in the doorway, smirking “The moment I can take a week, you can teach me whatever you want!”

     “Just say ‘I don’t want to’, it’ll save both of us the breath” she said with a scoff, going into her own room. ”Stay safe, killjoy.”

     “You too” she answered, closing the door behind her, locking it, and letting out a sigh, the weight of the city seeming to have slid off her shoulders with her coat. While she rolled up the sleeves to her button down, she made her way through her open living room to stare out the tiny window that gave her a look outside. The neon lining the streets almost made details besides the signs themselves impossible in the glare, though she could still see people walking by. Happy, sad, drunk, sober, all kinds made their way through the streets on these long Friday nights.

     A sigh parted her lips, muttering to herself the things she had to do before she went to bed. She took out a vinyl, one of Billie Holiday’s; “All of Me”. The soft cracks filled the room when the phonograph player whirled to life, soon having Billie’s voice accompany the little bursts of sound.

     Her chest holster hit her table with a thud, her gun nearly sliding out onto the table. She jumped forward, carefully putting it back into the holster and latching it up for the night. Her badge followed, sliding into the harness while she headed to the bathroom, running a hand through her hair and humming along to the music.

After the few minutes she left it running, Theresa let out a yelp when her hand felt the water running from the shower, having expected it to be warm. But, as was always the case with this apartment, she had to learn to expect things to be working just a little bit worse than she would think. That would still never make the water warm at this hour, though. Just bad luck, she thought to herself. ‘Certainly was enough of that to go around. 

 

* * *

 

 

“See ya, Mike” Veronica called out as she head for the main lobby, her hands tucked into the deep blue overcoat that covered her dress. Something was muttered, and he threw up a hand to wave goodbye while his mind was deep in the applications in front of him. ‘Mike’ Ranovitch was the head of operations of ‘The Silver Smoke’; a gentle guy mostly, his heart was into performers and the pursuing of other’s dreams. Of course, his mind acknowledged that if they wanted to watch men sing, they would have went to one of the other clubs in town. He had to keep a certain…selective, mindset when it came to his girls.

“Oh, wait, Veronica…” Mike called out right before she pushed through the doors, just remembering what he wanted to ask before. Veronica turned and stopped, waiting with a passive expression. “What did that detective want with ya? She seemed pretty upset to say the least.”

Her face immediately went cold as she replied, “Nothing. Just catching up.”

“Just catching up? Yeah?”

She stayed silent.

He looked down and rubbed his eyebrows. “I-…you shouldn’t…just…”

Veronica raised an eyebrow as he fumbled over his words,  causing him to take a deep breath and glance up with pleading eyes. “…just don’t get yourself arrested. You’re the headliner here. The other girls are good, don’t get me wrong, but you’ve got the whole-”

“Hey, don’t worry about me.” She moved towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder to ease him. “I wouldn’t put either of us at risk. Her and I used to be friends, we talked, that’s it. I swear it, Mikey.”

She began moving towards the doors again, looking back once more for the night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He looked her up and down, words dancing on the tip of his tongue to reply. But all he could do was give one exhausted wave, while Veronica waved back and left the back rooms.

From one conversation to the next, Veronica found herself exhausted and upset. She wasn’t sure how much patience she had left for opening her mouth to any sap who had a question. Guess she was lucky the guy 6 drinks in didn’t lead with a question.

“Ms. Veronica Serket!” A voice exclaimed, inebriated, causing her to glance in his direction, sigh and continue her course.

“Where a…where are ya goin?” He asked, stumbling from his chair over to her. The smell of whiskey overtook anything around her as he began to block her way. “I gots something to ask you!”

“I can see that, pal” Veronica said, scowling. “But, I’m sure it can wait till tomorrow, and you’re sober, so…”

His face was blank, completely non-receptive of what she was saying.

She began moving past him, and he quickly grabbed her arms, holding her within a few inches of him. The bouncers of the lounge began rushing in when she let out a noise of surprise.

“How is it…a…girl like yourself…can be ‘Ms.’? I haven’t been able to sleep, because of why…how…gorgeous, you lo-…you are”

As the bouncers closed in, he glanced over to them. With one quick movement, she pulled her arm back and punched his gut. As he keeled over reflexively, her knee shot up into his nose, breaking it with a crack. His hands flew to his nose, blood soaking through the spaces in his fingers. He glanced up and lurched forward towards her, but before he could even swing back he was in the arms of the two men, who nearly lifted him off the ground.

She let out a sigh, her heart rate slowly making its way back to normal. Her coat became wrinkle free after a tug, and she moved some hair back behind her ear. “I have a feeling that wouldn’t’ve ended with a handshake, so thank you, boys. And _you_ …you should hope I never see you again, or it’s not just going to be your nose.”

“I thought…you’d be different…”

“Then other women? No, we all have pride, sweetheart.”

Veronica left the lounge that day with a smirk, a sense of nostalgia with the feeling of blood drying on her stockings. To most that would seem a strange thing to be nostalgic about, but to a woman like Veronica Serket, it was an excuse to look back on those days. The days of Veronica, Theresa, and a couple of banks.


	4. Sing, Sing, Sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the town of Coleston, peace was a given. Outsiders were unpredictable, of course, but when a gun was drawn it made the front page of the paper. So, you can imagine their surprise when a group of people in pinstripe suits walked into a bank with a couple choppers, and one large bag. One fired their gun into the air and let everyone know what was going down. “This is a robbery. We want money, not a clean-up, but if you try anythin’ funny, you won’t even be able to blink.”
> 
> They moved in with calculated precision, Maggie “Mack” Carson gathered the customers into a watchable corner, Johnny “Sparkles” McFlore began reinforcing the door and covering the windows with the curtains lining them, Veronica “Roni” Serket went to the teller to keep him in line, and Theresa “Reese” Pyrope headed straight for the vault in the back. They were the ‘Molls’, a currently notorious crime organization, that had a specialty in robbery, and arson. Hopefully not at the same time.

“Come on, do I look like I got time in this bag? Hurry up!” Veronica yelled to the teller, lining the barrel up with his forehead. He whimpered as he threw open the drawer, muttering for her not to kill him.

“Don’t give me a reason to, pal.”

As they worked on all the people up front, Reese pulled out a few blocks of explosives, lining the wall around the vault which was just some hallways away from the main room. She laid out the fuse, leading away from the corridor, almost sitting in the main room as she struck the fuse. “Fuse is lit!”

Within a few seconds, the explosion shook the place, getting a scream from one of the hostages. Mack hit the screamer with the butt of her gun, telling her to “Shut your yap, asshat!” The large vault door slowly fell to the ground with a grand thud and into the debris of wall on the floor.

“Everything good, Reese?” Mack called out, refusing to take her eyes off the huddled people in the corner.

“Yeah, we’re in, and I think we’re gonna be eating well for years.”

Reese looked in, coughing a few times from the dust settling. Inside was a wild collection of cash lining the inside, with multiple cabinets and drawers lining the sides. Of course, this was intentional, as this was a few days before the national banks came in to take the money off their hands. Presumably, this was (above other things), to help deter bank robberies. “Sparkles, come grab as much as you can.”

“Got it. You have the getaway prepared?” He asked, grabbing the money bag Roni tossed to him in the air.

“I wouldn’t have blown it if it wasn’t” she replied, peaking out one of the windows lining the walls parallel to the street. No cops yet, but that probably was going to change soon. Time to get proactive.

“Roni, come help me with the back door. Mack, get the teller over there, we’re leaving.”

Roni nodded, giving the teller a slap on the cheek before meeting Reese at the entrance behind the teller desk. They both went over through a small hallway while Mack grabbed the guy and moved him over to the group of hostages, pushing him down. A few doors down the hallway there was a staff entrance that was heavily locked, and almost looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

“Should we just shoot ‘em off?” Roni asked, looking at the 3 or 4 metal locks lining the side of the wall.

“Ey, Reese?” Mack called out, a sense of urgency in her voice. “Cops are comin’! You got that exit ready?”

“Yeah, wrap up whatever you’re doin’!”

Gunshots were heard throughout the place as they angled themselves in a way to shoot through the lock without the potential ricochet and subsequent injury. The sirens were starting to be audible as they both threw open the door to find a shiny red Packard waiting patiently for its driver.

“Mack, Sparkles, we’re leaving! You got 10 seconds before we get the hell outta here!”

Mack backed up slowly, her gun trained on the people trapped in the corner as long as possible before sprinting down the hallway. Sparkles grabbed a few more handfuls of cash and stuffed it in the already overfilled bag and took off after Mack. The start of the engine roared through the place as Mack hopped in the far side and Sparkles hopped in the closest.

“We got everything?” Roni said, looking back between the two of them. They both nodded, checking their stash and then their guns.

“Let’s get goin’, then” Reese said, getting her gun ready and sticking her body half out the passenger side window. Roni smiled mischievously and slammed on the gas pedal. They nearly drifted around the corner before they hit the street, grazing a few people walking. The three gunners could see the cops already out of their cars, heading towards the bank before they saw them. They started yelling to each other and running back to their cars, driving straight for them. A head start was nice, but the one thing they knew in a chase was that head starts are only what you make of them, cause eventually you’ll lose it.

Reese shot a few rounds at them, aiming for the tires. Nothing hit, but it didn’t have to. This was to show they weren’t going down easy, and that unless the cops were going to give all they had to catching them, they weren’t going to go down at all. Sometimes this got them to pull back, maybe they just weren’t worth it, but it didn’t seem to be the case with these guys. It’d only been a few seconds and they already were going full speed, sirens wailing. She pulled herself back into the car while Mack and Sparkles stuck their upper bodies out of the windows and began open firing.

“God, I love you so much”

Roni said, watching Reese pulling out a stick of dynamite and loading the fuse into it, getting Reese to look up and smirk at her. She pushed forward and crashed into her lips, kissing her hard and causing the car to jerk over as Roni lost her focus.

Mack ducked back in to get another mag and sighed audibly. As gunshots rang out from both parties, she grabbed Reese and pushed her back over to her side of the car. “Hey, lovebirds, save it! There’s plenty of time for that when we get over the bridge” and with that, she was back out there shooting.

“You probably _should_ keep your eyes on the road, Serket” she commented, lighting the fuse as they began heading to a bridge that led into the country.

“And you probably shouldn’t go kissin’ me, cause I’m not gonna turn that down, Pyrope.”

Reese laughed, looking forward and seeing the wooden bridge encroaching fast. Gazing down on the fuse, she blew on it to get it a bit shorter before sticking her arm out of the window. The buzzing fire slowly burnt down the remaining section of the wick, which wasn’t all that much, as they reached the bridge. When their wheels contacted the wood, she stuck her upper body out of the car and held the dynamite carefully with her hand. It was now she could see that the cops had started to really get close, so she had one shot before a dangerous shootout became the only way out.

She took a breath in and lobbed it up over Mack’s head. Her and Sparkles watched it fly up and land onto the bridge, and sit still for a second before, in a flash of heat, the bridge seemed to disappear in a giant cloud of fire and debris. One cop car fell into the ravine below, which admittedly wasn’t all that high up. Maybe 20-30 feet. The others slowed in time and skid to a stop in front of the bridge, watching the Packard drive along the dirt through the country side. A few officers went back to try and get in touch with other departments in other towns, but most just watched one of the first bank robbers in their town’s history drive away, hollering and firing blindly into the air.

They all laughed together, joked, threw money around, and just all around went crazy as they were heading to their hideout. They felt invincible. If they were all together, nothing could touch them, not even God.

If only that were true.


End file.
